Without a Paddle

[Friday Morning]

"Help!" Friday almost chirped as the paddle slid out of her fingers and started floating away from her boat. This should have been easy, fun, even. Get in a boat, grab some paddles, and paddle out to enjoy the lake and the relatively nice day. Given that paddles should have a strong memory of paddling, it should have been easy.

What Friday hadn't counted on was the amount of resistance she got from dragging a paddle across the water. The first one had probably hit some lilypads or something relatively harmless. Friday hadn't quite caught what it was. She just knew that one moment, she was holding the paddle. The next, it had been pulled from her grasp and started floating.

Thus she'd done what any sane person would do: used the other paddle to reach out and try to get it. The paddle had slipped from her grasp, and well, we're back where we started.

"Help!" Friday tried, again, twisting and looking, hoping for someone else to show. "Can someone help me? I'm stuck!" she tried reaching into the water and paddling her small rowboat that way but, well, it wasn't going anywhere fast. Yeah, she definitely needed help, and the sooner, the better.

[Alfred Cheverell]

Athleticism didn't run in Cheverell family, at least not in the part of it that Alfred had inherited. His arms behaved as well as noodles when it came to lifting heavy objects, and his legs, while they may have have been sightly, didn't enjoy running. Yet, he'd somehow managed to find himself out and about on the lake, orange sweater on, hair properly poufed, paddling about like it was nobody's business. While this may have been true, it was made somebody's business as soon as they called for help.

Now Alfred was no altruist. He was lazy, in fact, preferring to conserve his energy and shy away from any and all potential work. At the same time, he'd heard people mention how they were 'up shit creek without a paddle', and he could only imagine what it would be like to have lost both the paddles for one's rowboat. Alfred was in a kayak, a slight and nimble vessel, so it would have been easy for him to paddle over and give the young woman a hand. But lo, he was a lazy clout who didn't want to be of any assistance.

So Cheverell did what any sane person would do - went against the demons inside of him and made his way over to the stranded student, all the while preventing his eyes from rolling back in his skull. "It's probably safer if you don't writhe about," the words were meant to be comforting, but in all actuality Al just sucked at small talk. He also allowed himself to come off as condescending, using the word 'writhe'. How would someone have handled this situation in a way that wasn't plain? He failed to imagine it! "And perhaps next time, you fasten the paddles to the boat with some string?" String? Hell, that was used for sewing. Yes, this was why he neglected to assist others. He should have said 'rope'. A bit too late for that now.

"How did you end up in this predicament in the first place?" He asked more for the sake of asking than for the sake of knowing the answer. Alf didn't actually care. He just wanted someone else to start talking so he could can it. 

[Friday Morning]

How was it that Friday often ended up getting into these awkward circumstances and helped by someone who should be cute or something? The guy offered advice and Friday almost immediately took it, trying to hold as still as possible. "I was just trying to maybe move the boat a little closer?" she offered, gesturing toward the oar that still floated just a little out of her reach. She had also half hoped that maybe the water would grant her some kind of super-awesome memory that she could then utilize to properly get herself out of this predicament. Naturally that hadn't happened and she was still very much as stranded as ever, but it had been worth a shot.

The guy was offering more advice, and Friday found herself nodding yet again. "Oh yeah, that totally would be a good idea! I'd have to get some really strong string or maybe some rope or something," more head bobbing followed this, while Friday twisted slightly, looking around again and trying to see if she had any. She knew there was some near the docks where she'd started but..

New question: "I, um," Friday twisted back to look at him, blinking, "kinda set out to start paddling, enjoy the nice and get some exercise in and all. My body was kinda getting into it and getting the rhythm going and all, but, like, I hit a snag and, yoink!" she leaned toward the first paddle, nearly falling in, and she had to pause and wave her arms to get back inside the boat safely, which still kept rocking dangerously. She flashed a smile as she gripped it, drumming the side of the boat while she did. Classic Friday, really, which he'd probably find out all too soon if this kept up. Hopefully she didn't take him into the lake with her...